


So We'll Hide Away

by crystalkei



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: The day after the battle is for resting.





	So We'll Hide Away

The long night had given way to a grey day. The snow kept falling and the wind blew harder. All Arya wanted to do was hide away in her room, no one asking how she killed the Night King, what it felt like, what happened exactly, was this the end of them forever? Was it safe now?

 

She just wanted to lie still, let her bruised body have a moment of peace, but people kept stopping by her room, interrupting her peace. 

 

Gendry was fiddling with the needle, trying to stitch a deep cut on her shoulder where her armor had been crushed. His brow furrowed in concentration and the tip of his tongue stuck out just barely from his lips. 

 

“Ow!” 

 

He smiled, eyes still on her cut. “You’re a baby, you know that?”

 

“I could have done this myself,” she mumbled, catching sight of the stitching she’d done above his rib just before this. Even still, the sight of his bare chest made her blush. She averted her eyes and rubbed the skin above the spot he was stitching. 

 

“You could not, you’re left handed and this is on your left shoulder, tell me, Lady Stark, how’re you going to reach that to stitch, hm?” 

 

“Don’t call me that.” There wasn’t any sting in the response though, and instead she flexed her arm, and pointed at a spot above her elbow. “Stitched that myself with my right hand and everything, turns out that needlepoint was useful.” 

 

Gendry snorted and kept working. “Yeah, and that’s why that scar is all jagged.” 

 

She frowned before yelping again as he pinched the skin. 

 

His face was soft for a moment in apology but before she could say anything he spoke, “Do you want me to get someone else?”

 

“No!” She surprised herself with the force of her statement. She didn’t want anyone else around. Gendry was allowed but only because she’d...well it didn’t matter. 

 

“Alright then, one more stitch and I’m done.” He went back to his work and Arya looked at the ceiling, if she didn’t look at him, she could ignore the sting of the needle working in and out of her skin. 

 

This was the first time in a while anyone had tended to her wounds. It didn’t seem to hurt as much when she took care of them herself, and yet despite all her fussing, she wanted Gendry to do this. She was content and even calmed by his presence, if not understandably uncomfortable by his messy needlework. 

 

She knew he was done when he splashed a bit of water on the cut. He dabbed the area with a cloth and smiled proudly at his handiwork. 

 

“I thought you’d never finish,” she said, adjusting the blanket around her.   
  


Gendry narrowed his eyes at her. “Anything else I need to patch up?”

 

“No.” 

 

“Are you sure?” he asked, genuinely concerned.    
  


“Yes.”

 

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not hiding any bits? Because if you’re bleeding I’m going to figure it out.” 

 

Arya rolled her eyes and Gendry tugged on the blanket. She wasn’t expecting it so it slipped right out of her hands and she was left naked. Gendry gasped and looked away, throwing the blanket back at her. 

 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

 

But Arya laughed, covering herself up again. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 

 

He turned back to her, his face still flushed. “I didn’t- I thought that’d be-” 

 

“Just the one time?” Arya provided. She raised her eyebrow and his mouth dropped open just barely. He liked it when she did that and it made her feel powerful. 

 

“You need to rest,” he managed to get out, his breathing labored. 

 

“So do you, but here.” She moved the blanket so it revealed just her leg. “No blood.” She repeated the action with her other leg and her arms. Gendry approved and gave each side of her a look as she showed him.    
  


“Fine, do you want some clothes then?” he said, a lilt to his voice. 

 

“No, I'm alright,” she said, enjoying the way she’d flustered him and the way his ears were starting to pink. 

 

A knock at the door had them both shouting, “Go away!” 

 

A voice came from the other side of the door, “It’s Sansa, why is the door locked?”

 

Arya scrunched up her face, knowing she’d have to let Sansa in. Gendry understood. 

 

“I’m going to put on a shirt before I answer the door, do you want a shirt?” Gendry whispered as if Sansa could hear. 

 

“No, you’d have to help me put it on over my shoulder.” Arya adjusted the blanket again, covering her up to her neck, but with her shoulder and the newly stitched cut uncovered. 

 

When Gendry had put his shirt on he looked to Arya for her nod before opening the door. Sansa rushed in, almost running over Gendry, to sit by Arya’s side. 

 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? I’ve been checking on others and I realized I hadn’t seen you in over an hour,” Sansa went on and on. 

 

“I’m fine.” She didn’t want to be sharp with Sansa, she knew her intentions were good.

 

“I need to stay with you. Look at this cut,” she reached out and hovered above the cut on her shoulder. “You might get a fever from it. I’ll stay and keep watch.” 

 

“That’s unnecessary,” Arya said. “I’m fine.” 

 

“But what if-”

 

“I just want to be left alone to sleep.” 

 

“Who stitched this up? I could have done that, why didn’t you call for me?” Sansa asked and now Arya was sure she hadn’t noticed Gendry at all. 

 

He was off to the side of the door, though he’d shut it, and was standing in his bare feet just watching, shifting from side to side nervously. 

 

“Gendry did a fine job.”

 

Across the room she saw him relax slightly, Sansa though, did not. Just as she suspected, Sansa hadn’t even registered he was in the room. She looked him over, startled she stood.    
  
“Thank you so much for the work you did in the forge with the dragon glass and the weapons and-”

 

“Sansa, stop using your Lady Stark voice,” Arya begged and Gendry tried not to laugh at the mention of the actual Lady Stark. 

 

He nodded his head to Sansa. “You’re welcome.” 

 

It was then that Sansa startled a second time. She looked Gendry up and down, realizing his feet were bare, taking in the state of his undress. Her jaw almost dropped, but she held her own and recovered quickly. 

 

“It’s fine he’s family,” Arya said without thinking. Sansa’s head snapped back to her. 

 

Gendry shook his head vigorously and tried to explain. “No, your dad, my dad, they were friends, my dad was-” 

 

He stopped and looked at Arya. “Doesn’t matter.”

 

“I think it does matter,” Sansa replied. 

 

“Sansa, I’m tired and I think I’ve earned some rest, please can we talk about this later?” 

 

Sansa pushed her shoulders back and walked toward the door. “I’m going to send up some food in a few hours. You should rest but then you should eat.” 

 

“Thank you.” Arya was so unused to being taken care of like this but there were likely horrifying days ahead of them so she’d take it now. 

 

When Sansa had gone, Gendry stoked the fire. “Should I go, too?” 

 

He didn’t look at her and she wondered if he was embarrassed. 

 

“I’ve tossed everyone else out but you’ve been here all morning, what use would it be to send you away now? Besides, Sansa’s right, I should be watched in case of fever.” She wanted it to come off nonchalant but she wanted him beside her so badly that she feared it was clear in her voice. 

 

“Right, in case of fever,” he repeated, knowing it was just an excuse. 

 

As Gendry positioned himself next to her, she moved the blanket so it was covering them both. She brushed a bruise of his and he winced. Arya moved more carefully, gently putting her leg over his as she burrowed into his side. 

 

“Are you alright?” she asked him, her lips almost pressed against the skin of his chest. 

 

“Yeah, you’re comfortable?” 

 

She nodded. They were a tangled mess of cuts and bruises but she felt more safe than she’d ever felt. Maybe even more so than when her father tucked her in at night when she was young.  

 

They slept off and on for most of the day. Waking up every now and then when one of them rolled onto a bruise or brushed a tender spot. 

 

Arya was in that sweet spot between sleep and waking. She knew where she was. She was safe. She was warm. She felt loved. And then a flash of the dead. She sat straight up, gasping. 

 

“It’s alright,” Gendry was up next to her and she was embarrassed. 

 

She shook her head and wiped her face. “It’s nothing.” 

  
Gendry waited for her to say more but she wouldn’t. She laid down, patting the pillow next to her, gesturing for him to join her. He did but he faced her. He closed his eyes and for a moment she thought he’d drifted back to sleep, but he spoke, eyes closed, his voice hoarse, “When the dead rose again, I thought for sure that was it. My arms were tired from fighting and I almost welcomed the idea.” 

 

Arya reached for his cheek. He opened his eyes and shrugged. It was her turn. But he wouldn’t force her. He put his hand on her hip and kneaded the skin there, her eyes closed involuntarily. But she didn’t speak for a minute, she worked past the lump in her throat and took a deep breath. 

 

“I was running down the castle halls.” She bit her lip. She didn’t have to keep talking, she shouldn’t keep talking. People could only use words like this against her. But she wasn’t with people. She was with Gendry. “I never fought a battle at home, I never fought for survival in my home and this is my home. Having them inside this place that was always safe, it was wrong and I was tired. This castle is my home and I was scared.”

 

He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to continue, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her. 

 

“Do you worry you’ll never feel safe at home again?” 

 

She almost laughed. “Of course not. I feel safe right now.” Defiant as ever, but in doing so she’d let out the truth. 

 

Gendry had the sense not to smile but she felt his hand still on her hip. 

 

“Before, when you told Sansa I was your family…” he trailed off and Arya scrunched up her face. 

 

“I just meant,” she stumbled over the words, trying to figure out some explanation that didn’t make her sound like the naive child she was when she told Gendry all those years ago that he should come home with her. “I just meant that you weren’t a stranger, you weren’t nobody,  you-”

 

He kissed her, stopping any further explanation. It was slow and warm and it was different from the frantic kisses of last night. 

 

She liked it. 

 

They kissed for what seemed like ages, just soft lips and slow breath. Arya almost forgot what she’d said. They fell asleep again and when she woke it was the food Sansa sent up being left at the door. No one came in, thankfully, and she untangled herself from him, pulled a shirt gently over herself, and brought the tray in from outside. 

 

It was bread fresh out of the oven, the kind that her mother would snip at the cooks not to overbake. 

 

“The Night King Slayer eats,” Gendry teased, his voice still rough with sleep. 

 

“I don’t need anymore names, just call me Arya,” she said, tossing a piece of bread at him. 

 

He caught it and took an exaggerated bite out of it. Arya rolled her eyes. 

 

“There’ll be Lords lining up to beg for your hand.” He laughed at his own joke.    
  
“And I’ll stab them if they won’t go away.” 

 

“I have no doubt.” 

 

“As if I’d have time for Lords lining up.” She crawled from the foot of the bed towards him. 

 

“Too busy saving the world?” Gendry offered as she straddled him. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“What if I line up?” he asked, bold but playful. 

 

“I promise not to stab you,” Arya said, her hand just above where she’d stitched him up that morning. 

 

“That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me!” His hands moved around her waist as she leaned down to kiss him. 

 

“Well,” she said in between kisses. “House Stark and Baratheon have always been loyal to one another and I’m already an embarrassment to my mother, if I ruined one more political relationship, she’d come back from the dead to scold me.” 

 

“Aw, yes, keep the political relationship between the houses strong.” He laughed against her neck. 

 

“Our fathers would be so proud.” 

 

“I’d rather not speak about our fathers while you’re on top of me.” 

 

“Maybe we should stop speaking at all,” she said, kissing him again. 

 

There was another war to fight against Cersei but Arya deserved this time to pretend that things weren’t all bad. There was good. There was home. And her family. Gendry included. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written in a while so feels a little rusty but enjoy! You can find me on tumblr at cupcakesandtv


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